The Improper Companion

Chapter 1

Nate looked up from a blueprint he was inspecting when he heard a soft knock.

"Enter."

A wisp of a woman slipped inside. She was wearing a dull brown frock and her hair was tucked neatly under a cap. "Good morning, your grace. I am Miss Fiona Butterworth."

Nate signalled her to take a seat, subjecting her to the full force of his dukishness.

She curtseyed gracefully and sat on his leatherback chair, not seeming very intimidated.

Nate noticed that although she was plain, her black eyes were frank. And she looked younger than he'd expected. Redgrave had said that she'd worked with them for five years...

"How old are you, Miss Butterworth, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I do not mind, your grace. I am two and twenty."

Nate couldn't keep the surprise from his face. He held back a retort. Why the hell had Redgrave even hired her when she'd been what...seventeen? Did he have a fetish for young girls that Nate hadn't heard of?

He examined the girl again.

She was definitely not a diamond of the first water—not by any stretch. But he conceded that although she was on the slimmer side, she had a surprisingly nice figure. Her face was pleasant as well.

Yes, maybe Redgrave had employed her for other reasons. What had been wrong with him? Why had he taken advise from Redgrave of all people? Oh yes, he'd been desperate.

"Miss Butterworth, I'm afraid I cannot employ you."

It was a shame, really.

"Why?" she stood up, aghast.

"I do not think you're in any position to question me," he replied haughtily.

He saw her face contort with anger before she closed her eyes and counted to ten. Audibly.

Nate didn't know if he should be appalled or amused.

"Your grace, with all due respect," she practically spat the words,  "I would merely like to know why you wouldn't hire me."

He stared at her. He didn't owe her any explanation. And he certainly couldn't tell her what he thought about her—not directly.

She didn't seem cowed in the least. If anything, her spine straightened a bit more and her eyes flashed with indignation.

Nate felt a spark of admiration but he didn't dare show it.

"Since you ask so nicely," he paused to see if she noticed his sarcasm. She had, if her clenched jaw was any indication. He bit back a smile and continued, "I do not wish to hire you because I believe you do not have enough experience."

"What?! I have been a companion—and a very good one at that—for the last five years."

"Yes, but you are so very young."

"Age is just a number," she said dismissively.

"Alright," he conceded. She didn't look like she was going to let this go because she was standing before him with her hand on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for him to go on. Yes, she was going to make him say it.

Nate cleared his throat. "I know why Redgrave hired you."

"Yes, because I'm dam— very good at what I do."

"And what exactly do you do?"

"I act as a companion, of course," she replied, as if he was daft.